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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939593">The Pleasure is Ours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth'>Unforth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fics: Supernatural [87]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Regency, Blackmail, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins (Supernatural), Multi, Secret Twins, Thief Dean Winchester, Twincest, meet awkward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:49:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean sneaks in to the Milton estate to find the blackmail material he needs to help Sam and escape Alastair's clutches, and finds far more than he bargained for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Jimmy Novak (Supernatural), Castiel/Jimmy Novak/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fics: Supernatural [87]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/708447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Pleasure is Ours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eccentric_or_weird/gifts">Eccentric_or_weird</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*sigh* this got long, and it really REALLY wasn't supposed to, but oh well.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Creeping through the dark hallways of the Milton family estate, Dean relied on the mental map he’d made of the mansion during the ball the previous week. For Sam’s sake, for his own, Dean couldn’t afford to make a mistake. A wrong turn, an errant creaking board, or heaven’s forfend he enter the wrong bedroom - his chance at success would be ruined, and Sam’s hopes for a future unclouded by his past destroyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean would have done anything to get Alastair off their scent, and so he was still surprised that all Alastair was a letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...only a letter, stored in a private bedroom in the private wing of the most private home of the wealthiest family in England.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...only owned by a man personally acquainted with Dean, a man who Dean had been prepared to swear had flirted with him, and with whom Dean had flirted back, and dared hope...but it didn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had to do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Winchester brothers had pasts that couldn’t have borne the examination of polite society; the only difference between them was that there was no documentation that proved Dean’s youthful poor choices, whereas Sam had foolishly penned numerous damning letters to his. There were countless ways that Ruby Cortese had been an ill-advised target for Sam’s indiscretions; that she’d sold those letters to the highest bidder wasn’t a surprise. That Milton had bid on them? That </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a surprise, but of course, once they entered the auction, they won.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Dean had to do was find where the letters were stored and steal </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> stored with them, and Alastair would take Milton’s other accrued blackmail material, leave the incriminating Cortese letters to Dean to destroy, and he and Sam would finally be free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean moved slowly, recalling the feel of hard floor boards and woolen rug under soft-soled shoes, picturing the layout of the building as it had been when it was warmly lit by a fortune in finest candles. The walls were hung with fine art made shadowy by the darkness. The French furniture mounted with prized antiques from the world over were dangerous obstacles emerging from the walls. The necessity of moving slowly conflicted with the need to be done before the servants began to rise for their morning duties. Dean was glad his heartbeat drummed only for his own ears as he made his way past closed door upon closed door, counting turns and diverging hallways as he infiltrated deeper into the home…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The master bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pausing before it, Dean gathered himself. Picking the front door lock, avoiding the kitchen staff, remembering the building, getting this far, all that had been the easy. Entering this bedroom, where Duke James Milton slept, inside which Dean had never been before, searching for and finding where Milton hid his valuables, and leaving again with the stash, all without being discovered?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Impossible</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No - Dean mustn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to succeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stretching his gloved fingers, curling them into a fist, and then relaxing them, Dean set a hand on the doorknob and opened it oh-so-carefully. Thank the Lord for people so rich they kept their doors well-oiled, for there wasn’t a whisper as the door slid open nor a squeak as the hinges turned. Dean stalked inside, a shifting shadow amidst the prevailing blackness. Soft snuffling came from the direction of the bed, as of someone with a mild cold sleeping. The only light in the room emanated from the banked embers of the fireplace, a faint red glow that deepened the prevailing darkness by contrast. By feel, Dean explored the room one tentative step at a time - canopied bed, a toilet, a chest, a desk...that was a good place to start. Seeking fingers found the coolness of fine ivory handles, and Dean pulled open the first drawer. Wood scraped lightly on wood, Milton snorted out a breath from the direction of the bed, and Dean froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart beat even more loudly than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t let that be audible.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He released the drawer knob and the wood creaked and shifted, as loud as a gunshot in the still of a forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t let him wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>An ember in the fireplace popped with a shower of sparks that cast a twinkling glimmer over the room for the barest instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, God, lead me quickly to what I need and bear me safely through this trial.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The drawer held an inkpot and quills; Dean pushed it shut again, gritting his teeth against the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shwaaaa creak </span>
  </em>
  <span>of wooden runners rubbing against wooden mounts.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please</span>
  <em>
    <span>, God...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what have we here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean should have known God wouldn’t take mercy on him. He never had before - why start now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A candle flickered to muted life, glinting off the toilet mirror, showing Dean the lustrous wood of the neatly arranged desk, the dark damask of the wallpaper, every sign of wealth and ease, every indication that the man who resided in this room could crush Dean beneath a pinky and never think twice about it. Dean used a single blink to steel himself for disaster to come and turned toward the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Milton stood on it, lithe form made taller by the bed’s height, naked as the day he was born, distractingly gorgeous, and aiming a mother-of-pearl inlaid pistol toward DEan with an air of expertise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bollocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, on the bed, another man sat up, and the blankets he hastily gathered about his face weren’t raised quickly enough to hide his appearance...and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>Milton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Double </span>
  </em>
  <span>bollocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...my apologies, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” said the standing Milton, confident, nonchalant, as casual as if they’d crossed paths on a stroll through Hyde Park. “You’re...Winchester?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve met twice,” Dean replied warily. “At Lady Mills’ and at the Roadhouse Travelers Club.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They can’t really look identical - I must have mis-seen. There can’t really be two Miltons, can there be? Someone would </span>
  </em>
  <span>know</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no - I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>remember if we were acquaintances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s me. I’d know - I now know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t you,” the second man interjected, his voice a match to Milton’s, sighing as he lowered the blankets from about himself. “I could swear I told you, James.” He looked the same as Milton down to the precise fall of sleep-dishevelled hair tumbling about his forehead, the exact glow of golden candle light in dark blue eyes, the indistinguishable smattering of dark hairs over fair, bare chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it’s Alastair. He </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants</span>
  <em>
    <span> to know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>naked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is what I’m actually here to find out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...no...you definitely didn’t...I’d remember,” standing-Milton said. “Methinks you were trying to keep this one for yourself, Cassie…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Triple bollocks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Youthinks wrong,” grumbled sitting-Milton. “I can’t help that your memory is too poor for this charade to succeed - and it’s already failed - or else why would Winchester be standing in our bedroom at this god-forsaken hour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, indeed,” standing-Milton murmured. He raised a thumb and cocked the pistol with a click. “Care to share, Winchester?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thoughts racing, Dean sought a way out. It was hard to concentrate with Milton’s six feet of muscle looming over him, cock and balls swaying temptingly with his every least movement. Why were there two Miltons? Why were they same? Why were they naked? Why-- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. None of that helped him. He needed a plan. He couldn’t flee. He couldn’t own the truth. Maybe he could try blackmail - demand the letters in exchange for keeping their secret? But that wouldn’t satisfy Alastair. Dean would have to tell Alastair...which, why shouldn’t he? That would mean breaking his word, but Sam would be safe, and--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any time now...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean swallowed. He should blackmail. He should lie. He should do whatever he must to protect his family. But...he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look...can we talk?” Dean croaked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still staring at Milton’s crotch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, from the corner of his eye, Dean could see sitting-Milton, staring at Dean staring. “Yes, he” leered. “Let’s...talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...but maybe get dressed first?” suggested Dean frantically. He needed them to know about Alastair, needed to learn this was all about, needed--</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>--my lips around that dick, my face between their bodies as I turn and turn to satisfy them both, my hand skimming over gorgeous skin, my nose filled with musk, my--</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Miltons laughed, a richly, beguiling sound that set Dean’s blood racing. “Absolutely not. On the contrary, I think you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>overdressed for this occasion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Quadruple bollocks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing-Milton gestured invitation to the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No...there are three of us...I believe that would make this sextuple bollocks…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting-Milton grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, damn it all. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“One question first…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m already caught. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have at, Winchester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m already damned. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Might as well have fun on the way out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” said standing-Milton, “that’s my brother, Castiel. And you’re Dean, and I’ve wanted to meet you for a very long time...Cassie can’t keep you </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>to himself…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, Dean swallowed. He had no idea what was going on, no idea why he was going along with whatever it was, yet if he had to choose between these two handsome men and Alastair, there was no contest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to protect Sam.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dean went to the bed, surrendering the touches of four identical house.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tonight...for once...I’m going to do something for myself, for once in my life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This...this is all mine.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm taking prompts today - the prompt for this was DCJ, Regency AU. This is today only (1/23/2021) - if you're interested in learning how to get me to fill your prompt, too, please take a look at <a href="https://unforth.tumblr.com/post/641114901317844992/one-day-only-ko-fi-commissions">this Tumblr post</a>.</p><p>Hope ya'll enjoyed.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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